Yang Kai suddenly flashed it another grin: "There wasn't before, but there will be now."
Zhu Jian burst into prolonged laughter: "Small in stature, yet enormous in talk—what virtue or ability do you possess that would make I, Zhu Jian, acknowledge a master? You would be far better off submitting to me. I might even grant you some opportunities."
In the Great Ruins Realm, the relationship between Sacred Spirits and their chosen bearers was one of mutual benefit. Those selected human cultivators often received considerable boons from the Sacred Spirits, allowing them to grow in strength with remarkable speed.
Qu Huashang, Ning Daoran, Gu Pan—all of them had been no different.
After all, these bearers would have to participate in the Battle for the Spirit at the final hour, and the Sacred Spirits naturally wanted them as powerful as possible. Only strength could hope to seize that opportunity—and only then could they be guided out of this realm.
Zhu Jian's offer to grant Yang Kai some opportunities was no idle boast; it genuinely intended to do so. The prerequisite, of course, was that Yang Kai pass a few of its tests. If he turned out to be mediocre, Zhu Jian would not waste its time.
As it spoke, Zhu Jian raised one bull hoof and pressed it down toward Yang Kai. The motion was not fast, but with every inch the hoof descended, the Sacred Spirit's majesty intensified another degree.
Zhu Jian could already picture the human before it trembling beneath its boundless pressure.
It had done this many times before, and every single time, upon sensing its might, the humans had become meek and docile.
This time, however, was an exception…
Yang Kai raised one hand and gently caught Zhu Jian's bull hoof, holding it in place. The sight looked for all the world like an ant bracing against the crushing weight of an elephant.
"Time is pressing, so let's skip the nonsense and get to the point," the human's voice sounded in Zhu Jian's ear.
The next instant, the Sacred Spirit felt the world spin wildly. Its three-hundred-zhang body was hoisted high into the air and slammed into the ground.
BOOM!
The entire Great Ruins Realm seemed to shudder. The valley fractured, spider-web cracks spreading in every direction. A deep crater was left in the earth, its outline roughly matching the shape of Zhu Jian's body, while shattered rock cascaded down from the surrounding peaks.
Zhu Jian was dazed.
Within the Great Ruins Realm, its power was severely suppressed, yet it still possessed the rough equivalent of a first- or second-order Open Heaven cultivator. Meanwhile, the strongest humans who came here were at most Emperors—how could one of them toss it around like a toy?
BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.
One thunderous impact after another rang out. Zhu Jian quickly became dizzy and disoriented, its rage giving way to raw terror. Since the day it was born, it had never encountered a situation that made it feel so utterly hopeless.
After a full hundred slams, Yang Kai finally released it. Zhu Jian lay sprawled across the ground, boneless and limp, its eyes vacant and clouded with confusion about the future—like a maiden who had been ravaged a thousand times over.
Yang Kai flickered and landed on the bridge of its nose, staring it dead in the eyes: "Acknowledge me as your master, and I'll take you out of here."
Only then did Zhu Jian snap back to its senses, crying out in alarm: "You're not suppressed by the Great Ruins Realm?!"
The pressure radiating from Yang Kai was nothing like that of an Emperor—this was unmistakably the standard of the Open Heaven Realm. Zhu Jian had never witnessed the aura of an Open Heaven cultivator firsthand, yet it could tell at a glance that this man's standing within that realm was far from low.
"Enough talk. Acknowledge me as your master." Yang Kai urged impatiently.
There were no shortage of Sacred Spirits in the Great Ruins Realm. He had no time to waste dawdling. All he wanted was to subdue them as quickly as possible and drag them out to serve as fighters against the Ink Clan.
Though Zhu Jian had been reduced to a wretched state, the pride of a Sacred Spirit was not so easily extinguished. It craned its neck stubbornly: "Don't even think about it! My Zhu Jian bloodline would never debase itself so!"
Yang Kai nodded slightly and praised it: "Spine. I like that."
He raised his great hand, and Zhu Jian's three-hundred-zhang body rose into the air of its own accord. It thrashed violently, but to no effect—as though an invisible restraint had pinned it in place.
The next instant, a ball of pitch-black flame bloomed above Yang Kai's palm, and within the fire, the spectral form of a three-legged crow could be heard crying.
He hurled the Golden Crow True Fire beneath Zhu Jian and blew a single breath upon it. The true fire erupted into sky-scorching inferno, engulfing the Sacred Spirit entirely.
Then, from somewhere unknown, he produced a great broadaxe and began eyeing the meatiest portions of Zhu Jian's body with a measuring gaze.
Zhu Jian panicked. The searing pain of the Golden Crow True Fire was excruciating, though it could still just about endure it—after all, it was fundamentally a powerful Sacred Spirit, merely held in check by the Great Ruins Realm's unique laws, which prevented it from unleashing its full strength.
The Golden Crow True Fire was formidable, yes, but actually managing to roast it alive was still a tall order.
What truly unsettled Zhu Jian was the way Yang Kai was sizing it up, clearly ready to carve it open and cook it for a meal.
"What are you doing?!" Zhu Jian cried in a panic.
Yang Kai sharpened his axe with a savage grin: "Once, there was a Green Ox whose taste I had always wanted to sample. I heard it was exquisite, though unfortunately I never got the chance. You look about the same size as that ox, so why don't you satisfy this little wish of mine? The flesh of a Sacred Spirit ought to be even more delicious than that ox."
"You wouldn't dare!" Zhu Jian roared.
"Wouldn't I?" Yang Kai scoffed. He stepped up onto Zhu Jian's body, the broadaxe hovering over the ribs and flanks of its belly. Then he raised the blade high, ready to carve off a strip.
Seeing that he was dead serious, Zhu Jian could no longer hold its ground. "Wait, wait! Let's talk this out properly!" it shouted.
Yang Kai drove the blade into its flesh: "Then speak—quickly. If you're too slow, it'll be too late."